The Promotion (Contemporary Reverse Harem 3)

Chapter 1

Maizy

DEAR EMPLOYEE:

As the end of this quarter approaches, that means it’s time for your annual performance review. Please complete the form attached, describing your top three accomplishments of the past year, and return it to your manager. He/she will contact you to discuss this in the next four weeks. And, as always, thank you for making our law firm one of the best in New York City…

Oh, boy. My favorite time of the year. The one where my boss had the opportunity to remind me of all the times that, in her eyes, I had failed her and would never, ever amount to much of anything, never mind get the promotion I was jonesing for.

How did I end up in a reality where someone else—someone I didn’t even like or respect—had so much control over my life?

It wasn’t obvious from the beginning what I’d signed up for when I’d joined the firm. From the start, she was nice as could be, interested in who I was, complimentary about the work I did, telling me she liked my dresses. Then, slowly, slowly the insults and jabs started. They were so tiny at first, I almost didn’t notice them. But when they escalated to full-on bitchery, well, then I had to admit I’d gotten on the wrong damn train.

The way it sneaked up on me was like that fable about the boiling frog. The water temperature increased too slowly to perceive any danger—the poor bastard didn’t realize he was burning up until it was too late.

Or something like that.

I guess everyone who worked and had a boss was in the same boat, at least to some extent. Vulnerable to the whims of someone else’s moods, personality, impulses. It was a total crapshoot, wasn’t it? You could get a good boss who gave a damn about you or some psycho who lived to destroy your soul.

And they say the white-collar world was civilized? I’d never seen people act more like disgusting beasts. Actual animals in the wild were kinder and more logical than some of the people I’d worked with.

But that wasn’t to say everyone I worked with was an asshole. Just a lot of them. And that was partly because I worked at a law firm. Everyone knew law firms attracted more than their share of dick heads. But in spite of that, I did have a couple work friends, thank god. We helped each other get through the weeks, as the weeks turned into years.

My buddy, Cato, was one of the firm’s junior partners. We started about the same time, and even though I was on the paralegal team and he was one of the attorneys, he never acted like he was better than me. Yeah, law firms have these insane hierarchies, with the lawyers at the top, as you might imagine. Then come the paralegals like me, and the admins who, if they were real assholes, picked on the poor slobs in the law library or mailroom.

I guess what it boils down to is that everyone has their bitch.

Who would the mailroom people pick on at the end of one of their bad days? Maybe they went home and kicked their dogs.

God, I hoped not.

Anyway, I didn’t have time to focus on that. I had a party to get to.

“Sparkle!” I hollered after I unlocked the front door to the apartment I shared with my sister.

Silence. Shit, I needed her to help me decide what to wear.

So I poked my head into her room where I found her sitting cross-legged on the floor, butt naked, wearing huge headphones, and chanting ommm. She’d finish one round, take a deep breath, and begin another ommm. In the corner of the room her pet rat, Cher, rustled around the newspaper lining in his cage.

Her eyes were closed, and she looked so damn peaceful that I wasn’t sure I should interrupt. But she could meditate any time. I, on the other hand, rarely had a social engagement with the sort of expectations that came with a party for my law firm’s fiftieth anniversary. This was the big time. And it was happening in two hours.

“Sparkle,” I called, as if she’d be able to hear me through her headphones.

Ommm…

C’mon, sis.

I walked up behind her and pulled off her headphones.

“What the hell!” she yelled. So much for meditative peacefulness.

“Spark, I have that work thing tonight. You’re helping me, right?”

“Oh, that’s right.” She stood up, her skinny little naked body toned and lithe from all the yoga classes she taught.

“Let’s go dig into your closet,” she said, heading toward my bedroom.

“Spark, put something on first.”

She looked down at herself with the same surprise as if I’d told her she was green.

“Oh, okay. Right.” She grabbed her purple plushy robe. It made her look like a tall, thin stuffed Barney.

“This is a big night, Spark,” I told her as she carefully applied my eyeshadow.

“Yeah?”

“Well, our annual reviews are coming up, and I’m hoping this is my year to be promoted to senior paralegal.”

“Oh, right. That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. I’d get paid more, I’d get more responsibility, and maybe even could work for a different attorney than the bitch I currently am trapped under. So tonight, I plan to impress.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Wow. I barely recognized myself.

“Sure you don’t want some glittery false eyelashes?” she offered.

“Thanks, Spark. But this is a law firm party, not Burning Man.”